Women on the Home Front (110 page)

Grace gave him a spontaneous, rewarding hug. ‘'Course she'll like it,' she murmured gruffly. ‘She'll be so pleased you've not forgotten her.'

‘Ain't forgotten you either …' He looked on the point of blurting something out, but instead drew from his pocket a box. ‘Go down on one knee if you want …' He sounded nervous but his adoring dark eyes roved her face as he asked huskily, ‘Will you marry me, Grace?' He opened the little box to show her a solitaire diamond ring. ‘Ain't as fancy as I'd have liked to get you, but now me wages have dropped back a bit since I took on Kieran Murphy, I thought no point waiting longer to try and save a bit more …'

Grace threw her arms about him and kissed him full on the lips. ‘Of course, I'll marry you,' she breathed against his mouth. ‘I thought you'd never ask.' She blinked, sniffed back tears, fiddled with his new tie. ‘I only got you this …'

‘It's enough,' he said, stroking a few fingers on the slubbed silk, 'cos we've got to start saving now.'

‘I know,' she said softly. ‘And I'm glad you didn't put Kieran off before Christmas just to spend more on me.' She took the little box to study her engagement ring. ‘It's beautiful … just right. Hope it's a perfect fit too …' Gently she eased the gem from its velvet bed and, having turned it this way and that to watch its rainbow sparkle, let Christopher slip it on her finger.

‘Made to measure,' he said with a pleased chuckle. His hands cupped her face. ‘Will you come to see me mum with me? I'd like to introduce you as my future wife, 'cos I love you and I want her to know.'

‘I love you too,' Grace returned softly. ‘But how are we going to escape?' Her eyes were glittering with happiness and excitement. ‘And … are we going to tell them all we're engaged? Don't know how my mum'll react; but I'm sure my nan will be very pleased.'

‘Perhaps we should announce it tomorrow in case Shirley causes an atmosphere. I'll come over in the morning and we'll tell her then.'

‘She's already tucked away a few sherries, so it could go either way,' Grace admitted. ‘Never know with Mum, when she's had a few, if she'll nod off or start a war.'

‘When shall we get married?' Chris asked.

‘Tomorrow?' Grace returned, achingly softly.

He drew her into his arms and kissed her. ‘If only we could. Soon as I've got the money together, we'll do it. Can't ask for me dad's help now he's got pressure on him with this new business. And it ain't fair to expect your mum to help either, being as she's a widow.'

‘I'll save as much as I can,' Grace said. ‘If I can get overtime I'll do it. Where will we live?'

‘Don't mind … Tottenham if you want. Don't care so long as we're together.' He hugged her tightly to him, dropping a kiss on her soft fair hair.

‘I've thought of an excuse to escape!' Grace exclaimed in a whisper, pushing back from him a bit. ‘These new shoes are killing me. It's not a fib; Mum knows I've got blisters.' She eased off one of her new leather courts with a pained grimace. ‘We can say you're taking me home to get a comfortable pair to put on. If me mum and nan don't want to stay for tea we can take them home at the same time, then go and see Pamela.' Grace not only wanted to accompany Chris to see his mother, she yearned for some private time with her fiancé so they could discuss their exciting future plans.

‘'Course it's an excuse,' Matilda growled at Stevie, who'd just frowningly watched his son and Grace leave the room. ‘Young love, ain't it. Those two want a little bit of time on their own … only natural.' She turned to Shirley, seated next to her on a sumptuous velvet settee. ‘Credit to you, that gel.' Following her pronouncement Matilda took a sip of Irish whiskey and smacked her lips.

Shirley graciously accepted the compliment by dipping her head.

‘Glad you're stopping for a bit longer, Shirley, and yer mum 'n' all. You wouldn't want to miss the spread we'll have, come teatime,' Matilda told her, settling back comfortably. ‘If you're partial to a sausage roll, or turkey sandwich, then you'll be in luck later. Afterwards, there's jellies and fruit and a sherry trifle. And when you've had yer fill of all o' that lot, I can promise you Faye bakes a lovely fruitcake …'

‘Shhh …' Faye begged for hush from the assembled company as the queen's crisp, clear tones were heard. They listened in silence until the speech had ended.

‘Well … that was nice,' Faye said to break the quiet.

‘Didn't forget to mention them serving abroad, did she.' Rob nodded. ‘And quite right too.'

‘Gracious as you like, weren't she, bless her. And she mentioned the Coronation Day next summer, so that's made me even more determined to make it a great party.' Matilda hoisted her whiskey. ‘A toast to our new queen.' Glasses were raised and Matilda's words were echoed by one and all.

Shirley took another sip of sherry. ‘Having such a nice time,' she slurred. A moment later her eyelids had fallen closed and her chin was sagging towards her shoulder.

‘That's it, gel, get yer head down fer a while.' Matilda gave Shirley's knee a pat. ‘Serious drinkin' starts after teatime …'

Matilda took Shirley's half-empty sherry glass, and put it safely on a table.

‘Lights are on, so someone's home.'

Grace nodded and her eyes veered from the little terraced house to collide with Chris's in the twilight. ‘Do you want to go and knock on your own, or shall I come with you now?'

‘Better go on me own first in case she's entertaining and gets embarrassed to see me. Don't want to upset her at all. If she seems a bit flustered I'll just give her the present and come away.' He turned in his seat and drew forth from the back of the van a neatly wrapped gift topped by a small bow. A moment later he was walking quickly away from the vehicle.

Grace watched with bated breath as he knocked then turned back to give her a nervous smile while shuffling from foot to foot. A moment later the door was opened and Chris was bathed in muted coral light. But Grace couldn't see who was standing in the hallway.

Suddenly he turned and beckoned, evidently relieved, and with a deep breath Grace fought to slide open the van door and jump out.

‘Sorry, I've nothing else to offer you, but I usually treat myself to this at Christmas as I quite like it.' Pamela gave a small smile, approaching Grace with the bottle of ginger wine.

‘Oh, that's fine, thank you,' Grace said quickly. ‘But I won't have more than just a little drop.' She didn't want to take too much out of what looked to be Pamela's solitary bottle of Christmas cheer.

Pam returned to her chair, her eyes darting back to her son, clinging to him, before she unconsciously brushed her fingers over the gift he'd brought her, placed on the table at her side. ‘I shall open it when you're gone, if that's alright. I'm sorry, I haven't got something for you … I didn't think I'd see …'

‘Don't worry, please, 'course you didn't know I'd come over today,' Chris burst out over her apology. He was seated opposite his mother in a chair close to the hearth. ‘So … you had a Christmas drink earlier with Mrs Rathbone and her husband, that was nice.' He sounded jolly.

‘They're good neighbours, but she can be a little bit … inquisitive.' Pam gave her son a tiny private smile, knowing he'd remember her neighbour's threat to get the police on him on the first occasion he'd come to see her. ‘I only stay for an hour, but it's enough. They've got their kids and the grandchildren over today, so they've got a houseful.' She paused. ‘Oh, and tomorrow they'll come in to me for a Boxing Day drink once they've seen off their family.'

Pam glanced at the bottle of beer she'd given to Chris. She knew she'd now only a couple left to offer Mr Rathbone, and very little ginger wine left to share with Gladys, but she didn't care. She knew she'd be overjoyed if Christopher would stay long enough to drink the whole lot this evening.

Continually her eyes were drawn like magnets to her son although she tried hard not to stare in case she embarrassed him.

‘Your tree looks very nice,' Grace said into the silence. She looked at the small fir adorned with baubles and tinsel. It seemed to be the only concession to Christmas. There were no other decorations up in the room and very few Christmas cards on the mantel.

‘They make a bit of a mess when the needles drop, don't they?' Pam clucked her tongue.

‘But I like the nice fresh scent, don't you?' Grace replied with a smile.

‘Are your mum and dad in good health?' Chris asked huskily. He desperately wanted to know about his grandparents. He thought his mother looked startled by his question but eventually she answered him.

‘My father is dead … my mother … I don't see her much,' Pam said and took a sip of ginger wine. She suddenly put it down. ‘Would you like a bite to eat? I could do a sandwich … or there's some Dundee cake if you'd prefer …'

‘No, thank you all the same, we've had a big blow-out dinner at me uncle and aunt's …' Chris's voice tailed off. He wished he'd not mentioned that. There was no hint of turkey and stuffing here, just the faint scent of lavender polish and the smoky aroma of burning logs coming from the fireplace. He felt a stabbing pain in his guts because his mother had probably not bothered with a Christmas dinner at all. He wished now he'd come over to see her on Christmas Eve and offered to spend the day with her. If she'd wanted his company he'd have foregone his big merry Christmas with his father's family despite the war that would have started at home when he told Stevie where he'd be going.

Grace watched Pam as she sipped her drink and flicked constant glances at Chris. The woman was trying hard to be amiable to them both but Grace could tell Pam wanted to have her son to herself for a while. And Grace thought that was right. Besides, Chris probably had personal things he'd like to ask Pamela, but he wouldn't want to make his mother feel uneasy by voicing them now, in front of his fiancée.

‘May I use your bathroom?' Grace asked quietly, placing down her glass.

‘Oh … of course. Top of the stairs, first door. Shall I show you?'

‘No need. I'll find it, thank you.'

‘So, when will you get married?' Pam burst out cheerfully when the door had closed behind Grace. ‘Have you set a date?'

‘Not sure when it'll be,' Chris admitted diffidently. ‘Only got engaged today.' He grinned boyishly. ‘Nobody knows … except you …'

‘You've told me first? Before your father?'

Chris nodded. ‘But I came here to give you your present as well.'

‘Thank you.' Pam returned his smile, eyes glowing. She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘She's a lovely girl, you'll be happy … I know you will …'

‘Grace is a diamond. She's encouraged me to come and find you right from the start.'

‘Does … does your father know you're here?'

Chris shook his head and gulped at his beer.

‘Does he know that you've been here at all?'

‘No,' Chris admitted. ‘But I told him I wanted to find you a while ago.'

‘He was angry when you told him,' Pam guessed. ‘I knew he would be.'

‘It's up to me what I do, not him,' Chris gently replied. ‘If he doesn't like it, it's too bad.'

‘Don't fall out with your father because of me,' Pam said. ‘I'm not worth it.'

‘'Course you are!' Chris jumped up and in two strides was dropping to his knees in front of his mother's chair. ‘'Course you're worth it! You're me mum …' He gazed earnestly at her lined features.

‘And he's your dad, and he's brought you up his way …' Pam quietly championed her ex-husband without glancing away from her lap.

‘Are you ashamed of me?' Chris asked hoarsely. ‘'Cos I'm one of the Wilds and they're a rough lot?'

‘No!
Ashamed of you?
' Pam raised her glistening eyes to the ceiling. ‘How could anyone be ashamed of having a son like you?' She placed a quivering hand on his dark hair and smoothed his cheek before returning it to her lap. ‘Look at you! You're handsome, polite and kind … you're everything …' She knuckled her moist eyes. ‘Stephen's done a fine job bringing you up, so don't you go falling out with him because of me.'

Chris got to his feet. ‘Did you regret having me, is that why you went off and left me behind?'

‘No … it's just …' Pam hesitated. ‘I wasn't a good mother … I couldn't cope, so it was best your father looked after you.'

‘Did you try and see me when I was little?'

Pam nodded.

‘But he wouldn't let you?'

Again she nodded.

‘That weren't fair.' Chris sounded angry.

‘It was … don't blame him,' Pam interjected. ‘Although I didn't think so at the time, it was fair. I deserved to be punished …'

‘Why? What did you do?' Chris asked hoarsely.

A long silence preceded her admission.

Immediately after losing Christopher Pamela had tried to prepare for this talk a thousand times or more, so sure had she been that she could persuade Stephen she was fit to have her baby back. She'd understood she might have to account to Christopher for her cruelty at some time. But her pleas, and her optimism, had fallen on Stephen's deaf ears and so had withered away over the years, together with, so she'd believed, the necessity to explain herself. It was only recently she'd again gone over in her mind how she might mitigate once having almost killed her only child. But she wouldn't lie to him … it was too precious, too pure a moment to sully it with cowardly deceit.

‘I gave you … something to quieten you because I couldn't cope. I was too selfish and stupid to try hard enough to cope. So I gave you something to quieten you …' she whispered and stared at the fire.